


I Think I've Seen You Around

by neapeaikea



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neapeaikea/pseuds/neapeaikea
Summary: Maybe Jackson's not thinking straight after being shot. Maybe he's thought about this before. Maybe it's time to stop thinking.





	I Think I've Seen You Around

**Author's Note:**

> Yet more of _The 100_! What can I say, these two have really inspired me. Hope to write more, if I had the time we'd have five fics already. Starts during s04e04. Feedback is lovingly drooled on!

  


”Just like old times, huh?” Jackson says, lifting his lip in an exhausted smile. “You pressing me up against a wall.”

Miller gives him a look, and shakes his head. Jackson manages to catch the hint of a smile, before Miller says something into his walkie about needing help. It almost makes Jackson laugh _, this is Earth, when do they not need help?_ , but something about Miller’s serious demeanor stops him. Miller’s grown up a lot since coming down to Earth, matured in ways Jackson has trouble not thinking about. 

The guard’s hand is firm on Jackson’s shoulder, and it helps him remember to not let his knees buckle. Beside Miller’s contact, Jackson’s body is mostly operating on pure adrenaline, his wound a dull throbbing for the moment but he knows it’ll hurt like hell later, even if his life probably isn’t in any danger. The doctor in him wants to get a real look at it, make sure it won’t get infected and become more serious than it has to be. As he’s thinking about needing Abby’s assistance, she appears at the edge of the tree line. 

“Abby!” Jackson calls out as his mentor runs out into the open to draw the attention of the drones away from Raven. The last few minutes have been a jumble in Jackson’s head, time moving both too quick and too slow, and he’s not entirely certain what’s going on, but he knows that Abby once more puts herself in harm’s way, and once more he’s left with a stomach-turning panic at the thought of losing her.

The drone crashes down mere seconds later, and Abby’s escaped death yet again. So has he, as Abby comes over to look at his wound, Miller helping Jackson out of his jacket and standing around looking menacing. 

Jackson can’t help it, he’s struck again with how Miller’s changed since he was a teenage rebel, stealing from the medical bay. Jackson had only caught him the once, had been shoved back against a wall and threatened. He hadn’t felt that scared, certain that Miller wouldn’t seriously injure him. Even though Jackson had been angry that Miller thought he had a right to steal medicine from those who needed it, Jackson had never turned him in. There was a small part of him that hadn’t wanted to be known as a snitch, and a much larger part that hadn’t wanted to be the reason someone was sent to the Sky Box, or worse, floated. Jackson had become a doctor so he could save people, not condemn them to death. 

**

Hours later, when Jackson’s thankfully superficial wound is patched up and all but forgotten after the discovery of Becca’s state of the art laboratory, Jackson finds himself wandering through the mansion. It’s been one hell of a day, and the surprises seem to be never-ending on this god forsaken island, let alone the whole damn planet. It feels like a lifetime since he was shot by the drone. He’s spent hours in the lab, helping Abby go through medical supplies and instruments, finding material to bring back to Arkadia, as well as what they need to make Nightblood. He’s hungry and tired, and all he wants is to find a bed and a shower, in no specific order. 

The mansion offers him huge rooms and hallways, shiny surfaces and glass walls. If he wasn’t so focused on rest, and finding a way to survive the radiation wave about to hit, he’d probably drive himself mad thinking about the luxury humans awarded themselves before the Earth burned. The mansion is a slap in the face to someone who has lived their entire life in a metal cage, with recycled air and rationed water.

“Hey.”

Jackson spins around at the unexpected greeting. He’s passed by several bedrooms, not sure why he hasn’t stopped at one of them to pass out on what will most likely be the comfiest bed he’ll ever know.

“Hey.” Jackson leans his right arm against the doorframe, feeling suddenly better at seeing Miller. 

“You okay?” Miller gestures towards Jackson’s left arm.

“Yeah.” Jackson elevates his arm to prove his point and immediately flinches at the painful stretch. “Peachy.”

Miller rolls his eyes, leaning over to get something from his backpack. “This is a crazy place, huh?”

Jackson steps into the room, takes a closer look around. It’s bright, the walls white with some pinkish tone that softens the light coming in through the windows. Miller probably picked it for its view of the path to the laboratory.

“You found somewhere to sleep yet?” Miller asks, apparently accepting that Jackson’s a bit spaced out and not reacting to his question.

“Don’t know if I can sleep in this place.” Jackson answers truthfully.

“I know what you mean. But you need to rest. It might have only grazed you, but you were still shot today.” Miller comes over, squeezes Jackson’s left elbow. “Doctor’s orders.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow, “I think you got that wrong.”

“Nah,” Miller winks, “you’re the doctor, and those are my orders to you. So.”

“You’re giving me orders now?”

“I’m the lead guard on this expedition to hell.”

“I thought Abby was in charge.” Jackson finds himself walking into the room, sinking down on the bed, eyes trained on Miller the whole time. He looks good from this angle. “Who would’ve thought? Little Nate Miller, giving out orders.”

“There’s nothing little about me, as you know.” Nate takes his uniform jacket off, hanging over the back of a chair. 

Jackson does know. He was the one who performed the medical evaluation before Miller entered the Sky Box. He did most of them, as Abby thought they were good training for him. She didn’t think about how many of the delinquents were close to his age, and what it felt like knowing he was often the last friendly face they’d get to see for years and years. She didn’t consider the fact that Jackson and Miller had talked many times at the events they attended as guests of Abby and David Miller’s, as part of the grooming process to becoming future leaders.

“I heard you haven’t been sleeping with Bryan.” Jackson immediately holds up his hands at Miller’s incredulous look, “In your quarters, I mean! That you haven’t been sleeping in your quarters! Fuck.”

Miller looks sad for a second, but shrugs it off. “Been working a lot of nights. Don’t wanna disturb him, so you know, it’s easier to bunk up with my dad.”

“Nate. You don’t have to pretend.”

For a moment, Miller looks like he’ll keep lying, but then he sighs, deflates. “I think we’ve… We’re not the same people. We’ve both done so many things, things we never thought we’d do.”

“I know. We’ve all changed.” Jackson thinks about the things he did when he was chipped, how he let himself be controlled into endangering Abby, and anyone who was in the way. He reaches for Miller’s hand, doesn’t think about how Miller’s closed the door and moved within touching distance. “It’s not your fault. You might’ve broken up on the Ark too, even if you were never sent to the Sky Box. You were young when you got together, people grow up.”

Miller doesn’t pull his hand back. “I was young when I threatened you when you walked in on me stealing those meds. You were too.”

“Yeah.” Jackson agrees quietly. “We were different people then. You especially. Full of disdain and anger at uniforms and authority.”

Miller chuckles, gaze heavy on Jackson’s face, “What can I say, Earth has made me a model citizen.”

That rips a laugh out of Jackson, one that starts way down in his diaphragm and makes his whole body shake. It’s not that funny, but he can’t help it. He laughs and laughs, falling back on the bed. He tries to stop laughing, but he can’t, and it only makes him laugh harder, squeezing his eyes together. 

“I used to make you laugh a lot. Actually, I used to make a lot of people laugh.” Miller says, a smile tugging on his lips as he sits down on the bed next to Jackson.

“Death and destruction has a way of ruining people’s sense of humor.”

Miller looks down at the mattress, “You sound like Jasper.”

There’s really nothing to say to that, so Jackson lets silence reign. The bed truly is the most comfortable bed he’s ever tried, and he could easily fall asleep here, beside Miller. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, but the house is secure, if you wanna sleep.” Miller says, and the mattress dips and bounces back up as he stands. 

Jackson hears Miller undress, the fabric crinkling, zippers being pulled. When the sound of water turning on reaches him, he sits up, looks at the pile of clothes Miller has left behind, and undresses to create his own pile. He crosses over to the door that Miller left halfway open, the one that leads to the bathroom. Jackson looks inside first, doesn’t see much more than a fancy toilet and a wash basin. His eyes quickly travel to the left side of the room, where a wall of frosted glass hides Miller’s body, by now not only naked but wet too.

Jackson pushes the glass paneling open, and steps in next to Miller. The water’s lukewarm, but when Jackson puts his hands on Miller’s waist, the other man is hot to touch. Miller places his palm on Jackson’s right hand, squeezes it. Jackson squeezes back, but pulls out of the grip so that he can let his hands walk up and down Miller’s spine. Miller is tense, and Jackson tries to ease it by massaging small spots, digging his thumb in below Miller’s left shoulder blade. It makes the guard grunt, and some of the tension between them disappears. 

The mood makes Jackson braver than he normally is, and he steps closer, brushing up against the other man. Miller draws in a breath but reacts in no other way, so Jackson decides it’s safe to slide his hands around to Miller’s front, feeling just the hint of abs. Miller rests back against him, his head on Jackson’s shoulder. Jackson leans down to kiss his cheek, and a second later Miller’s turned around and they’re making out for dear life, teeth and lips clashing, the kiss hard and angry as they grope each other. 

The water makes it easier to glide his hands around Miller’s toned body, and having his first touches be welcomed, encouraged even, makes Jackson eager to feel out every inch of naked skin in front of him. Miller is pliant, responding to Jackson’s touches with quiet sighs and moans, shifting against the taller man like he’s greedy for attention. Miller keeps kissing him through it all, lips rough and demanding against Jackson’s, and it’s clear he’s not interested in giving up control. He guides Jackson with little nips and long licks, his tongue pressing wetly against Jackson’s mouth until he opens for the younger man. 

Miller’s beard scratches nicely against Jackson’s face as they make out, sending sensations through his body that tells him to grow bolder, and he grazes the top of Miller’s ass with his hands. Miller loses his cool at that, pulling back to breathe. His head is tilted down, his buzzed hair tickling Jackson’s shoulder. When he leans his head up, Jackson thinks he’s ready for what he’ll see, but he isn’t. Miller’s eyes are haunted, desperate and searching. It breaks Jackson’s heart, and makes him want to fold Miller in closer and never let him step outside again. Before he has the opportunity to do anything, Miller reaches up and carefully puts his hands on either side of Jackson’s face. 

“Yeah.” Miller breathes out against Jackson’s lips.

Jackson’s hands move more firmly over Miller’s ass. Miller bucks into the touch. Jackson finally remembers he has a dick, a dick that’s hard and straining towards Miller. 

Miller has a dick too, and Jackson wants to feel it against him. He uses his hold on Miller’s ass to shove the man closer, and Miller gets the hint and starts thrusting his groin against Jackson’s hip. Jackson had almost forgotten what it felt like to have another man hard and pushing against him, but it all comes rushing back, the desire he feels when he’s with another man, how intoxicating the feeling of hard skin sliding over his is. Miller’s dark skin looks beautiful all wet and clean from the shower, and Jackson wishes they had more time. He wants to kiss and taste, get his hands and mouth all over Miller.

With lust leading his every motion, Jackson gets a hand around Miller’s dick and starts pumping. Miller groans loudly, licking at Jackson’s neck, his hands firmly grabbing Jackson’s biceps. 

“I want,” Jackson has to catch his breath, “want you to touch me too.”

There’s no pause or hesitation before Miller has Jackson pressed up against the wall, a firm hand stroking the length of Jackson’s cock. They jerk each other off like that, kissing intermittently as they both stare down at their hands stroking each other. Miller concentrates so hard that it’s kind of cute, his hand steady and warm as it works Jackson’s dick. It drives Jackson crazy, and he keeps stuttering his hips into Miller’s grip.

“Come on.” Miller whispers hoarsely.

“You come on.” Jackson deadpans, leaning down to kiss Miller’s chest, licking his way to his nipple.

“Fuck.” Miller’s hips fasten their pace, at the same time as his grip on Jackson’s cock loosens. 

Jackson looks up through his lashes, pleased to find Miller staring down at him, eyes now blown wide and that haunted look replaced by something much more basic and wanting. Jackson’s ego gets a huge boost at knowing he can make someone, anyone, feel like that, let alone Nathan Miller. He focuses on making Miller feel so good he’ll explode, one hand stroking him steadily, with a little twist at the head, and his other hand fondling Miller’s balls. It makes Miller’s breath hitch, and his hands glide down to grab Jackson’s ass. They push and pull at each other as Jackson jerks the guard off, his own dick pounding with the need for attention. 

When Miller comes, his jizz slides down Jackson’s hand and arm, but Jackson only makes a perfunctory attempt at washing it off before he grabs himself, jerking his dick furiously. He groans loudly when Miller replaces his hand, Miller whispering filth in his ear, filth that turns Jackson on like mad. Miller seems to know this, and slows his strokes down until Jackson starts fucking his fist. His fingers are calloused and rough, and on the edge of too dry to make the slide comfortable, and Jackson has to bite down hard on his lip to not cry out. He’s not sure where everyone else is, but they don’t need to announce their playtime to the world just yet.

“Good boy.” Miller smiles lazily, and it shoves Jackson over the edge, his orgasm hitting him hard and fast. Miller keeps stroking him until Jackson’s erection wilts a little, and then he only moves his hand to Jackson’s ass, prods down his cheeks. Jackson moans, thinking of Miller’s dick pressing in there. Maybe they’ll have time for that later. 

The water pressure’s pretty much disappeared, and they haven’t really been near the spray for some time. Jackson’s not sure how long they’ve been in the shower, maybe ten minutes, maybe longer. They sure ain’t on the Ark any longer, where wasting water was a punishable offense. They clean themselves, switching places under the shower head. Miller keeps to blatantly appreciative looks at Jackson as he washes himself, while Jackson uses his opportunity to touch Miller’s body again. His chest is particularly nice to feel up. 

Miller doesn’t kick him out once they’re done. Without saying much, they slide into bed next to each other.

Jackson pauses, realizes the bed is even more heavenly than he thought possible. The mattress is both soft and hard, and seems to mold around his body. The sheets feel silky smooth against his naked skin, and the pillows actually cushion his head, rather than cause headaches.

He stares up at the ceiling. After a second he turns his head, finds that Miller is staring back at him, his eyes tired but alert. They stare at each other in wonderment, and two seconds later they’re both letting out the loudest groans of the day, followed by uproarious laughter. 

“Holy fuck, this is a bed.” Miller says, shifting from side to side.

“I didn’t know mattresses could feel like this.” Jackson says, almost in awe. He too starts shifting around, trying out different positions, and none of them make his body tense up. It truly is a miracle. “This is way better than the sex we just had.”

Miller laughs, reaches out and shoves at Jackson’s shoulder. Unsurprisingly it turns into a wrestling and tickling match, the two men rolling around on the bed, a mess of naked limbs and laughter. 

** 

Jackson wakes up first. He’s not sure what time it is, or how long they’ve been asleep. It was still light out when he finally passed out, exhausted by the day’s events but still happy in some way. He looks down at Miller, who is lying on his front with his head turned awkwardly to the side. He doesn’t look peaceful, but he does look well-rested. That’s all they can ever hope for these days, uninterrupted sleep. Jackson’s pretty sure Miller will be angry at himself for sleeping too long, taking his mission very seriously. 

Outside the light seems to be indicating that dawn is upon them, meaning they slept all through the night. Jackson doesn’t want to think about all the things that may have gone wrong in the lab since he stepped into that shower yesterday, or who might’ve knocked on the bedroom door only to open it to find him and Miller in bed together. He doesn’t know if he cares. Unless Abby and Raven can science the shit out of that lab, they’re all gonna die anyway.

Miller makes a noise, shifts his head an inch and then back. It makes Jackson smile. Ever since he first saw Miller down here on earth, the younger man has had an intense, rattled aura. He hasn’t agreed with everything Miller has done, and there was the time when Jackson was chipped that he’d rather like to forget. But he understands this Miller, appreciates his concern for his friends, his tribe. He’s heard of what Miller did in Mount Weather. He respects him. 

Because of that respect, he didn’t approach Miller much after he and the others had escaped Mount Weather, just a few quiet conversations to check in. They were both busy trying to rebuild some semblance of life. Later, Bryan was back, and while Jackson might’ve carried an attraction to Miller, he’s not a jerk. But he’s noticed how Bryan and Miller has spent less time together, and more time alone and miserable. He’s listened to the grapevine, asked a few gently probing questions to Harper and Monty. The latter, specifically, had no trouble letting on there was trouble in paradise. 

Jackson wonders if he would’ve waited longer to approach Miller if they weren’t on this goddamned island, if there wasn’t a private bedroom for once, where they could hide their activities from others. But it’s a moot point, he did join Miller in that shower, and Miller welcomed him with open arms.Jackson smiles, remembering what it felt like to kiss Miller, his beard rubbing against Jackson’s cheek. He’d like to feel it again. He lies back down, inching closer to Miller. 

He tentatively puts his hand on Miller’s cheek, but the other man doesn’t stir. It makes Jackson giddy, maybe it’s that he’s allowed something so intimate for once in his life, or that Miller apparently feels so safe in his presence that he continues sleeping instead flinching awake at the touch. Jackson pretends for a minute that the world never burned, that there was no A.L.I.E., that this mansion belongs to him and Miller like some jet setting millionaires in the movies of old. 

The sun disappears behind a cloud, making the room a little darker. Jackson returns to reality, and decides he’ll take whatever he can before the sun disappears for years. 

“Nate.” Jackson moves his head closer to Miller’s, strokes his thumb across his surprisingly soft beard. 

“Mmm.” Miller moves into the touch, body shifting.

Jackson smiles, sing-songs, “Na-ate.”

“Yeah, just…” Miller’s slowly waking up, turning on his side against Jackson.

“Want me to blow you?”

Miller stills at that, his eyes opening up. He grabs Jackson’s wrist, hard, stopping Jackson’s stroking. Their eyes meet, Miller’s surprisingly steady for someone just torn from sleep. Miller shoves Jackson’s hand away, sits up and looks out the window.

“I think it’s dawning.” Jackson says, deciding not to take offense at Miller’s behavior even if a part of him is hurt.

“Fuck, we’ve–”

“Slept as long as we needed. You’ll be of better use not exhausted.” Jackson points out. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

Miller looks back at him, gives him an unimpressed glare, “How’s the arm?”

Jackson tilts his head so that he can glance at where he was shot not even 24 hours ago. “Fine. Itches, mostly.”

“Good.” Miller says it with much more conviction than a simple word deserves. Jackson can’t help but feel warm at the concern Miller obviously has for him. He also can’t help zoning in on Miller’s lips as the guard wets them. “Look, Eric–”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. But I am going mad knowing the world will end, again, in a few days, and I’ll probably die trying to save it, and all I want is to feel like I matter, that this all matters somehow, and I want to feel like someone actually cares so just–”

Miller cuts him off by leaning forward, pressing his lips to Jackson’s. At the first hint of tongue, Jackson opens up. The kiss is wet and sloppy, both of them much more relaxed than last night. Jackson falls back to the mattress, and Miller follows him, leaning over him. Jackson takes advantage and gets his hands on Miller’s body again, marveling at the feel of muscles hidden beneath that warm skin, loves the way his paler skin looks against Miller’s. 

Miller must tire of being in control, because when Jackson slides his tongue past Miller’s, begins to explore his mouth, Miller lets him. His hands are on Jackson’s face again, one sliding up into Jackson’s hair. Jackson moans at the first little tug, and his cock stirs into something more than mere morning wood. He lets his legs fall apart, Miller taking the hint immediately and straddling one of Jackson’s legs. 

They went to bed naked, so Jackson can feel Miller’s cock drag against his thigh, heavy and hard, just like Miller can probably feel Jackson’s against his stomach. It feels good, rutting against each other, hands off exploring scarred skin, tongues slowly sliding over lips, quiet moans falling between them.

“I still wanna blow you.” Jackson says, heaving his thigh up so it traps Miller’s dick between them.

“Fuck,” Miller presses a hard kiss to the side of Jackson’s mouth, “I ain’t stopping ya.”

Jackson pulls back enough to raise an eyebrow at the younger man, and it makes Miller roll his eyes in that amused way he has. Since Miller isn’t stopping him, Jackson shimmies out from under him, taking the covers with him and exposing them to the world. Miller moves to sit against the headboard, pushing a pillow to the side. Jackson takes a moment to give his lover an appreciative once-over, Miller putting his hands behind his head and flexing his arms like the cocky brat Jackson remembers from the Ark.

It should make Jackson roll his eyes and lightly insult Miller, but he just puts his hands on Miller’s thighs and gently guides them apart. He settles in between them and takes Miller’s filled cock in his hand. It jumps to attention, as does the rest of Miller’s body. Jackson puts his mouth on the head, suckling experimentally. It’s been ages since he sucked dick, but he likes the feel of it in his mouth, the weight against his tongue. He pulls off, spits in his hand, then gets back to it, licking along Miller’s head while he strokes the base with his hand.

“Oh fuck.” Miller breathes out, his hand landing heavily on Jackson’s shoulder.

Jackson can’t decide what he wants to do most, tease Miller or get his cock down his throat. He ends up sucking most of Miller in, bobbing his head up and down as he presses his tongue against Miller’s shaft. It’s not elegant, and it’s not perfect, but it has Miller tensing and relaxing underneath him, and it has his own cock pounding. 

“You, you gotta…” Miller trails off, voice nothing but a hoarse whisper.

Using his free hand to leverage himself with, Jackson gets an angle that lets him take Miller further down. He keeps stroking him too, loving the continued drag he can feel against his lips. They smell of sex and sweat, that underlying weird smell of Earth hidden underneath. Not having that smell up his nose is just another great thing about having sex with Miller.

The best thing about them having sex is probably hearing and feeling Miller come undone. Jackson’s head is tilted back when Miller grabs him by the hair, guides him away as Miller sits up. He nods for Jackson to get back on his dick, and with the new position, Miller fucks his mouth like it matters, like he’ll get a prize once he’s done. Jackson doesn’t care, just cares that Miller’s so far gone that he’s getting rough with him, that his hands are gripping him tight, that his hips shove a little too hard. It makes Jackson feel alive in a way he hasn’t in months.

Miller comes soon after that, warning Jackson in time, so that he’s shooting all over their joined hands while they share a kiss that is more breath than lip lock. Miller goes still after a few moments of shaking and groaning, Jackson entertains himself by licking up and dock Miller’s neck, his hands back at his new favorite place on Miller’s body, where the curve of his ass starts.

“What are you gonna do to me now?” Miller asks huskily once his brain is back online.

“Wanna fuck your ass.” Jackson whispers into Miller’s ear, groping said ass. “We don’t have lube but I can still put my dick between your cheeks and fuck you hard.”

Miller breathes in, hesitating for a moment before turning his head, whispering into Jackson’s mouth, “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for you to roll over.” Jackson says, pulling back. He doesn’t have to wait at all, as Miller turns around and positions himself face down on the mattress, even reaches back to pull his cheeks apart. “Fuck, yeah.” Jackson swallows, stroking himself. 

He gets Miller ready with a healthy dose of spit, gets some on his dick too, then he presses his dick between Miller’s cheeks, groans at the sight of Miller’s ass swallowing his dark, angry cock. Miller’s ass is sexy any day of the week, but like this, firm and plump around Jackson’s furious erection, it’s the most sinful thing Jackson has ever seen. Miller is as responsive as Jackson guessed, bucking against him one moment and moving with him the next. Miller is still moaning and whispering dirty words, egging Jackson on. It makes him speed up, unable to keep his dick in place. Jackson changes tactic, using his hands to press his cock against Miller’s ass, rub it hard against the round globes, which leaves streaks of white pre-cum on the brown skin, a painting he wishes he could frame and show off. 

“Thought you were gonna fuck me hard.” Miller taunts, pushing back against Jackson.

Jackson lies down, pressing Miller into the mattress, “You want my cock that bad, huh? Want me inside you? Fucking you ‘til you can’t walk?”

Miller moans, opening his legs wide. Jackson pushes down harder, cock twitching at the nearly painful drag of skin against skin.

“I’ll give it to you. You just have to earn it. Make me come.” Jackson changes his position too, hovering over Miller, the tip of his cock rubbing at Miller’s ass. Like he wanted, Miller follows after him, getting up on his knees.

“Come on me, come on, Eric.” Miller begs.

Jackson licks his hands, using one to push Miller’s cheeks apart, the other to trap his dick between them. He gets a good rhythm going, up and down the crack, gasping whenever he catches the rim of Miller’s entrance. 

“Fuck me, Eric.” Miller insists, and Jackson’s mind blanks. He chases his climax, shifts his hips back and forth until he feels it building. He explodes all over Miller’s back, grunting loudly, too loudly. He’s shaking and loose limbed, almost a little sad that it’s over, even with Miller getting up and turning around, putting his arms around him and kissing him gentler than the situation calls for. His own hands settle on Miller’s ass, naturally, and he feels his cum there, realizes some is still fighting its way out of his cock. 

Miller whispers into his ear, “You do matter. I do care. And you’re gonna fuck me for real before we die.”

**

When they finally exit the room, it’s after deciding they’re gonna act like nothing’s happened in front of the others. So what if they’ve all figured out they spent the night in the same room, at the end of the world you’re allowed to act a little crazy.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the good doctor and the, uh, guard. You’ll notice I didn’t call you bad, though from what I’ve heard all morning, you’ve been very, very bad.” Murphy smirks, shooting a too pleased look at Miller.

“Shut up, Murphy.” Miller snaps, heading for a cupboard. He brings over some canned fruit to Jackson, and they share the can for breakfast.

“New love. So sweet.” Murphy teases.

“Shut up, Murphy.” Jackson says before Miller has the opportunity. Jackson hides a smile at the fond look Miller gives him. 

“As riveting as your love life is not, Abby wants Jackson back in the lab over an hour ago.”

“An hour?” Jackson frowns, he doesn’t want Abby to think he’s ignoring her.

“You were… indisposed.” Murphy finally settles on. “Believe it or not, this was the better alternative of me being the messenger for all of us.” 

Jackson’s not sure what to expect from Miller, but it isn’t a careful hand on his wrist, and a little smirk. “Come on. Let’s go save the world, so you can get to fucking me.”

“Oh, come on.” Murphy groans.

Miller laughs, winking at Jackson before grabbing his gun and leading the way out of the mansion. Jackson watches Miller’s ass, hidden under his guard uniform, thinking to himself that the end of the world might not be so bad after all. 

  



End file.
